Today did not start as expected.  We planned to be out the door by at least 7:00am.  While we barely made that, we expected to walk through Castrojeriz and get a quick breakfast at the first cafe / bar / restaurant that was open. The problem was that nothing was open and it was going to be 12km to the next village with food. Buggers.  We needed fuel but none was available. What to do?

We decided to keep going, using a small torch / flashlight to show us the path. Going down to the Rio Odra was fairly easy and we just followed the brief chain of lights from pilgrims in front of us.  Under the cloudy sky, the first dull light of dawn was enough to light the way up the one big climb of the day and it was a doozy. Over one kilometer, we rose 120m for an average 12% gradient. The “average” hides the fact that the gradient is much more in some sections and less steep in others. There are also several false peaks to fool us into false hope. But, looking backwards and seeing the string of torches all the way back to the twinkling lights of Castrojeriz is absolutely magical. 

Once on top of that meseta, we only have a few brief moments of restful walking before descending the steeper opposite side.  If we had not learned from sherpas how to walk down a steep slope, our thighs and knees would still be trembling. After crossing a broad flat plain, we had a kinder climb that provided a nice view back to the meseta we descended from but also a food truck with overpriced snacks. We had no breakfast there.  

At about our 1pm mark, we passed the Ermita de San Nicholas, a very small albergue that has serviced pilgrims for many hundreds of years.  I poked my head inside and the host, sitting outside the door, said that I can go in and look around.  I called forward three times to Melanie to get her to stop but she didn’t hear me.  The host shrugged his shoulders and said “wives!” In the universal acknowledgement that all husbands experience.

Finally, about the 12km mark, we reached Itero de la Vega and our first breakfast. I savored my pan de chocolat  and Fanta limón while Melanie chose a ham and cheese sandwich and coffee. She was famished. Once we had a nice break, we moved on. Oddly, no one else seemed to.  For the next 8km to Boadilla del Camino, we saw six bicyclists pass us (shockingly only one jerk among them) and two other walking pilgrims that we slowly caught up to just entering Boadilla. We couldn’t see anyone else in front or behind us the whole way.  Where did everyone else go?

When we reached Boadilla, the directional signs were a little confusing but we continued on into the center of the town, following some signs. We were looking for breakfast #2 even though it was lunch time.  As we reached the first bar, I saw a yellow arrow pointing to it which made me suspicious. I checked my map and, sure enough, we were off the real trail and we had followed arrows painted by the owner of the bar.  Sorry Charlie, I don’t play that game.  We retraced our steps, got on the correct trail and it passed an albergue that had a bar. They didn’t have food available but we did have some juice before moving on. At least they were honest.  

From there we walked a bit and joined up with the canal that would lead us to Frómista. We were surprised though to find three young Taiwanese girls sitting at what looked like a bus stop just as we got to the canal. They said they were waiting for the boat to take them the last three or four kilometers to Frómista. We had a good laugh but then we found out they were serious. There was a boat and it was arriving in 15 minutes. We were tempted but said our goodbyes and promised to wave when they passed us. As it turned out, we walked the final 4km all the way to a bar near our hotel, and had a sandwich and drink on the terrace of the bar, all before they came walking up. We called them over to hear about the boat.  They enjoyed it but needed to eat something before they walked the next 20km!!!  As they went in to order some food, one of the three older Spanish-speaking guys sitting next to us got (mockingly) upset that there were three young woman talking to us, with three nice (much older) men at the next table next to us and we sent the girls away without introducing them to the men.  The guy talking, in Spanish of course and hilarious, said that he was a clown and ugly but his two friends were very handsome and deserved a chance.  He certainly was a payaso (clown).

At dinner in the hotel, we were lucky to catch up with Susi who we haven’t seen for several days, as well as Peppi, her Brazil’s friend Monika, Brazilian Roger (who lived in Delaware) and also American Maura and Teresa.   Eight pilgrims, with only two pairs who knew each other two weeks ago, all feeling just how fortunate we were to be here, enjoying each other’s company the Camino brings the world closer together.

Peace y’all. Goodnight George, Leo and Stella. We love you all.

Don’t let us get sick, don’t let us get old
Don’t let us get stupid, all right?
Just make us be brave and make us play nice
And let us be together tonight 

The moon has a face and it smiles on the lake
And causes the ripples in time
I’m lucky to be here with someone I like
Who maketh my spirit to shine
~Warren Zevon